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Tussy Mussy

The word(s) of the day is Tussy Mussy.

What's, the heck indeed, is a Tussy Mussy?

It's a bouquet holder.

And, it turns out, it's absolutely essential for the mother of the bride.

For the mother of my bride, anyway, and that's all I need to know.


Yes, I absolutely need a tussy mussy!

Don't you love how silly you feel when you say those words? Except when I was in the midst of all my wedding craziness, I think I called it a Mussy Tussy, which just goes to show how much I know. It reminds me of when Erica and I were little girls and we were doing this presentation in class about who knows what, and I got confused about Ferry Fisher Road/Fisher Ferry Road, and I said it backwards. Good grief, I still can't remember which one is right. Pathetic. Anyway, hope you guys have a great weekend. :)

I loved tussy mussies- I had totally forgotten about them- Blondie- fear not- we had them at my wedding too. I even carried one that came with a stand so that after the cceremony you could set it up. But my poor bridesmaids didn't get to have stands with theirs. It must have sucked to be them.
"Tussy Mussy Bitches" (say it like Chapelle)

I am so bored at work. Here is a link to the one I had


I am so pathetic.

I love it! Yay for Tussy Mussies! Sarah, I swear, the second I read "Mussy Tussy" I INSTANTLY thought--"heh heh...Ferry Fisher" and then you mentioned it! I love you so much. And Mary--PLEASE keep sharing! I love it! You can post all the comments you want. We are just getting them for the mothers...we are making the rest of our bouquets. Hmm...Maybe I should post on the blog instead of always making Fuzzy do it... Love y'all!

PS--Sarah--the report was on the "Ghost Clock" at the Old Courthouse Museum. But nothing rocked as hard as our kickass John Gordon Cashman report. He lost his left eye in a duel!

What a phenomenal memory you have, my love! You remember what our report was on?! Didn't we dress up in something ridiculous? My memory is much more sketchy than yours. I find that it is just pathetic what I can and cannot remember. I just remember dressing up, feeling like an idiot when I said the wrong thing...and was my mother there videotaping the whole ordeal? And am I dreaming, or am I remembering that we actually went together to the newspaper office for an interview for that kickass John Gordan Cashman report? Dear Lord, I wish my memory was intact. However sketchy it may be, I swear to God you are in every childhood memory that I have. I love you, darling!